


Maybe It Could Be Forever

by KatieComma



Category: MacGyver (TV 2016)
Genre: Angst, Commitment, Established Relationship, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Marriage Proposal, Smut, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-26
Updated: 2020-03-25
Packaged: 2021-02-28 16:49:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 15,390
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23320480
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KatieComma/pseuds/KatieComma
Summary: Five times Mac thinks about being with Jack forever, and one time Jack thinks the same thing.
Relationships: Billy Colton/Riley Davis (MacGyver TV 2016), Jack Dalton/Angus MacGyver (MacGyver TV 2016)
Comments: 45
Kudos: 116





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Orianess](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Orianess/gifts).



> WAY belated Christmas gift. The original prompt was something like: Five Times Mac Knows He's Going to Marry Jack... I changed it a little bit... cause it didn't QUITE come out that way... though there is a lot of marriage talk.
> 
> Thanks to BlackVultures and lavendersblues for beta'ing different parts for me and giving me advice. You guys are the best.
> 
> This fic is FINISHED - but it is a MONSTER... so it may take me a few days to get all the parts posted because I do a final read through as I'm posting.

_Not like this._

Mac pleads with the universe.

_Not like this._

He doesn’t want to lose Jack like this.

The click of a pressure plate in the back of a fake NYPD Mobile Unit van.

_Not like this._

Jack’s black sneaker presses down on the silver plate, keeping the bomb from exploding with pressure alone. Keeping Jack in one piece. Keeping Jack alive. For now.

_Not to the Ghost._

“Did that just click?” Jack asks, his voice high and frightened, a rarity.

“Do. Not. Move,” Mac instructs, trying to keep fear from taking over his voice, trying to fill it with authority.

Mac rounds the van to look for the Ghost. To find the man who’s threatening to take away… everything.

But he’s gone already.

Mac comes back to Jack, and looks up at him. Jack’s eyes are wet, jaw clenched, nostrils flared with fear. Mac’s rarely seen Jack afraid. Mac feels the same fear, but it’s deep down inside at his core. Down in the place he knows that will break forever if Jack dies. Especially this way. To a bomb. To the Ghost.

In that instant Mac knows something important, and he knows it without question: Jack is _it_ for him. It’s been nagging at him since they met, this draw to Jack. But he’s ignored it in favour of this friendship, this companionship they’ve built. 

But now he knows, as they stare at each other across a few feet that feel like a football field, that this is it. 

As soon as Jack is safe, he’s going to tell him how he feels, and do something as juvenile as ask him on a date. As far as he knows Jack is straight. But the look he’s giving Mac speaks volumes, says otherwise. The look he gives Mac in that moment is the look of someone who wants and thinks they’re going to die without having the thing they've always wanted. It's a look that reflects perfectly how Mac feels.

The minute the bombs are defused Mac feels like he’s been hit by a ten ton weight. The stress of the day settles on his bones like the world on Atlas’ shoulders. Before he knows what’s happened they’ve been whisked away from the reporters and back to Mac’s hotel.

“For obvious reasons, we’d like to keep this out of the media,” Patty says, narrowing her eyes, “so you’re both on curfew tonight. No going out. Order room service. If you need anything else call me and I’ll take care of it.”

She pushes them into the elevator, and they ride up together in silence.

“Don’t know that I’ve ever been grounded by my boss before,” Jack finally speaks as Mac opens the door and lets him into the room.

Mac laughs and raises an eyebrow. “Seriously?” He says as the door closes behind them. “Of course you have.”

“The army don’t count,” Jack grouses.

“Well, Patty’s given you a ton of warnings and given you temporary suspension at least twice that I remember,” Mac says. “So yes, you totally have been grounded by your boss.”

“Alright, alright,” Jack rolls his eyes. “You’ve got me.” He slips out of his leather jacket and tosses it on a chair.

They stop in the middle of the room and look at each other.

Jack’s face goes solemn. Mac reads all the same things in that look still; the same things he saw in the back of the van when Jack thought he was going to die.

“Listen Jack…” He says. “I have something I need to say.”

“Mac… I…”

“No,” Mac looks away. “I’ve gotta get it out. I don’t want to feel this way every time… I mean… me and you we get into a lot of life and death situations, you know?” He looks up, and there’s something vulnerable and hopeful in Jack’s face. He takes a step closer to Mac. They’re within reach of each other. “I can’t feel this way every time one of us is in mortal danger, you know? Cause that’s like, a Thursday for us.”

Jack chuckles, and the crinkling of his eyes causes a tear to fall down his cheek. “That’s a tame Thursday for us.”

Mac laughs, and it feels good, like it clears the tension he’s been building in the room.

“Feel like what?” Jack asks before Mac can continue.

“What?” Mac asks.

“You said you can’t feel this way every time we’re maybe gonna die,” Jack says, “feel what way?”

“Regret,” Mac says. This time he steps toward Jack, wondering if Jack will finally understand and step back.

“Regret what?” Jack asks, tilting his head the way he does when he thinks he knows the answer to something, but wants to hear the person say it.

Mac loves that he can read Jack so well. “Regret that I never… told you how I feel, you know?”

Jack swallows heavy and takes another step forward until their feet are almost touching. “And how’s that?”

“I’m sort of in love with you Jack,” Mac chokes out half on a laugh, wondering if he can play it off as a joke if Jack’s not interested.

Jack takes Mac’s face into his hands and kisses him softly. Their lips are dry and they both smell like sweat and a long stupid day. But it doesn’t matter. It’s perfect. Mac takes hold of Jack’s forearms like he can keep him there forever.

“Love you too, Mac,” Jack says when he pulls back just a little. He rests his forehead against Mac’s. “Maybe bein’ grounded won’t be so bad. Stuck up in this room all night.”

Mac laughs and leans forward to kiss Jack again, because now he can. Their mouths open a little on this one, but they still don’t venture tongues yet. Just air.

Jack takes a step back, looking into Mac’s eyes so meaningfully Mac’s knees almost give out. No one’s ever looked at him like that; like he’s the most important thing in their life.

“You know, Patty did say she’d send up any supplies we might need,” Jack grins and raises an eyebrow.

Mac laughs and falls into Jack, throwing his arms around the man and holding him tight. He speaks into Jack’s neck, warm breath gathering wetly on his skin. “If you’re talking about the supplies I think you’re talking about,” he says, “I am way too worn out for that.”

Jack’s hand moves up to tangle in his hair and Mac groans at the intimate contact.

“Now that you mention it,” Jack says, “I’m startin’ to feel like I could sleep for a week.”

Mac leans back and raises both eyebrows. “Movie marathon and room service?” He grins.

Jack smiles back. “Hell yeah hoss, sounds like a perfect night to me,” he says, still holding Mac, “can’t guarantee I’ll make it through even one movie. But I could eat a horse right now.”

They opt to shower separately, and fall into the same bed wearing just their underwear.

Jack flips through the channels while Mac tentatively moves closer to him.

“I ordered food while you were in the shower,” Jack says. “Burger and fries. And since Phoenix is footin’ the bill and I wasn’t sure what you were in the mood for I also got you a steak and a baked potato with no bacon. Weirdo.”

“Weirdo?” Mac asks, shifting even closer.

“Who gets a baked potato with no bacon?” Jack scoffs.

Mac’s chest feels like it’s going to cave in. In all the ways he’s always wanted his significant other to know him, Jack already does. Jack knows everything. Including that he doesn’t like bacon on his baked potatoes. It’s such a small detail. Something that people don’t pay attention to even once they’ve heard it. And yet Jack remembers. Because even the small things are important to Jack.

“ _I_ get a baked potato without bacon thank you very much,” Mac says.

“Food should be here anytime,” Jack says, “then we can stuff our faces and sleep all night.” He continues to flip through the channels. “So, what are we in the mood for? Godzilla?”

Mac shakes his head. “Nope. Explosions and gunshots and screaming. It’ll just wake us up if we fall asleep in the middle.”

Jack throws his arm around Mac’s shoulder and pulls him closer without even looking away from the TV. As though it’s something he’s done a million times before. Or maybe just thought about doing a million times before.

Mac settles in under Jack’s arm and feels himself start to drift toward sleep already.

“Good point,” Jack says, scrolling further down. “Oh man that’s every movie on here that’s worth watching: explosions and gunshots.”

“Give me that,” Mac says, stealing the remote and checking through the channels.

Jack stops looking at the TV, and looks at Mac instead. Mac can see it from the corner of his eye. “What?” He asks, grinning.

Jack leans over and nuzzles against Mac’s neck, his scruff creating perfect friction. “It’s weird that I can do this now,” he says.

“Weird?” Mac asks, self conscious. Maybe Jack isn’t as sure as Mac is about this thing.

“Weird good,” Jack says, laying the softest kiss to Mac’s neck before he lays his head on Mac’s shoulder. “Been thinking about it so long, I feel like I’m dreamin’ right now.” Jack’s thumb rubs soft circles on the shower-damp skin of Mac’s shoulder.

“I know what you mean,” Mac says softly, still scrolling through the channels. “Oh! Here. Perfect. Clear and Present Danger.”

Jack sits up. “But that’s an action movie too.”

“Yeah, but it’s more suspense. Less explosions and gunshots and screaming monsters,” Mac says with a wink.

Jack smiles. “Harrison Ford? I ain’t complainin’.”

Mac clicks into the movie and sets the remote aside. “How long until the food gets here?” He asks, looking into Jack’s face.

“Any minute now.”

“Gotta make sure we stay awake until it gets here,” Mac raises an eyebrow. “How ever will we pass the time?”

“You think you’re so cute,” Jack mocks, leaning forward.

Mac’s hand slides up into Jack’s hair and pulls him in fast. Their mouths clash hard, and open to each other. And their tongues finally meet, and it’s not what Mac had ever expected. It’s somehow softer and tenderer and sexier than he’d thought. He’d expected anything intimate with Jack to be testosterone fuelled and hard and fast. But there’s an underlying romance, the way Jack tastes his mouth, softly asking for permission with gentleness. Mac feels so loved he wants to break down, but he also wants to be in the moment and just enjoy it. So he does.

Time stops. Mac doesn’t know if they’ve been kissing for minutes or hours, but he needs to breathe. He stops and sucks in air, pressing his cheek to Jack’s.

“You ok hoss?” Jack asks, and then clarifies further: “Is this ok?”

“We are so having sex tomorrow when we wake up,” Mac says suddenly. It tumbled out without his permission, and he thinks he should feel foolish for such a bold statement, but instead he doesn’t. It’s what he wants.

Jack growls, takes Mac’s face in his hands and pulls their lips together again. His hands grip hard at Mac’s body, and there’s the urgent almost violent passion Mac’s been expecting. Except underneath he can feel Jack’s exhaustion, and his own too. The way they surge against each other for moments before their weight collapses just a little in fatigue.

But it’s good, and Mac doesn’t want to stop.

There’s a knock at the door.

Jack growls again, and it travels down to vibrate in Mac’s throat; it almost tickles.

“Damn room service,” Jack grumbles, untangling them.

“I’ve got it,” Mac says jumping up. He grabs one of the robes and wraps himself up before letting the guy with the cart into their room.

There are several covered plates on the cart.

As soon as they’re alone again Mac tosses the robe aside. He loves this new freedom with Jack, to just feel at ease and be himself. He can’t help but wonder if it will be the same when they’re naked together.

They eat a little of everything, curled up in bed watching Harrison Ford outsmart and out-awesome everyone else. Jack keeps his arm wrapped around Mac, even when he’s eating, and several times it proves to be awkward but hilarious; he licks the resulting spilled ketchup off Mac’s skin, and Mac enjoys it more than a little. Somehow there’s still the same ease between them. But with this added element that Mac is definitely a fan of. A few times out of nowhere when Jack says something hilarious or just adorable, and Mac kisses him just because he can.

“I am stuffed to burstin’,” Jack says, sliding down in bed until his head is supported by the pillows instead of the headboard.

“I definitely didn’t think I would eat the steak _and_ the burger,” Mac says, rubbing his stomach and sliding down next to Jack.

“Time for some shut eye then?” Jack asks, eyes already closing.

Mac yawns. “Yeah, I think so.”

They click their lights off and roll back to the middle of the bed.

“You’re still gonna be here in the mornin’, right Mac?” Jack asks, face lit by the flicker of the TV.

“Where am I gonna go? We’re grounded remember?”

Jack smiles, but there’s a hint of sadness in his eyes. “I mean here in bed with me hoss,” he says, “you ain’t gonna change your mind, right?”

“You’re stuck with me I’m afraid.”

“I’ve been stuck with you for years,” Jack says, “glad you finally came to your senses and realized it.”

“Just one more thing Jack, before we jump into… all of this,” Mac says tentatively, as though anything could change his mind. Just because they’re together doesn’t mean he’s going to stop messing with Jack. That’s one of the most fun parts of their relationship.

“What’s that Mac?” Jack asks, eyes wide as though anything could ruin them now.

“Please tell me you’re a cuddler.”

Jack sighs and lets the tension go out of his muscles as he relaxes into the bed. “You had me scared for a second there,” he admits.

“This is serious stuff Jack,” Mac is still mock-serious. “You didn’t answer the question.”

“Well of course I am,” Jack says, rolling over to throw an arm over Mac’s stomach and lay his head on a shoulder. “Jack Dalton is the biggest teddy bear there ever was. You think he wouldn’t be a cuddler?”

Mac wraps an arm around Jack and for the first time in a very long time he feels at ease, and he lets himself drift to sleep while Jack’s gentle breath tickles his skin and Harrison Ford continues to be a badass in the background.

And just before he finally lets go and gives in to sleep he thinks: this is it for me. I’m set for life.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mac wakes up and realizes he's the luckiest man alive.

They had forgotten to close the blinds, and the warm morning light is pouring into Mac’s bedroom; solid gold as it fills the corners. 

It wakes Mac first, but it’s a slow comfortable waking. The kind reserved for a day off when neither of them have anywhere else to be. Nowhere but with each other.

Mac loves these moments. Loves the comfort of just being together, loves being able to watch Jack when he’s not talking or doing something dangerous or ridiculous. So the only time he gets these moments is pretty much exclusively while Jack is still sleeping.

The warm light crawls across Jack’s body where he lays face down, it’ll wake him soon enough, but not yet. 

The sheets are low on Jack’s hips from moving in his sleep. Most nights Jack rolls around the bed asleep, almost always dreaming violent things, and the sheets migrate a lot. Mac’s always there for him when he thrashes, sometimes sobs. Mac is there to hold him. And he wonders how Jack got through so many years in a bed all alone. He doesn’t have to worry about that much anymore. Jack’s always over, stays almost every night. Mac doesn’t mind. He loves it. Loves sleeping next to Jack, the way Jack holds him close, the heat he puts out; the guy is a furnace.

The light dances up the sheet and hits Jack’s lower back, lighting that warm skin up bronze, like Jack is a classical statue, all muscle and hardness. Mac knows better. Knows the give under those muscles, the softness you can find if you know what to look for it. Mac cherishes that knowledge.

Jack snores softly, occasional little snorts thrown in. It’s never annoyed Mac, he finds it cute, though he’d never use a word like that when telling Jack about it. Not that he’s ever told Jack. Jack’s so convinced he’s a burden in any way, Mac doesn’t want to give him any ammunition. The snoring is soft and gentle, Jack’s back rising and falling with it.

The light travels farther, unveiling scars along the way; bright white against Jack’s warm skin tone. Some are small, some are large and scary looking. Mac knows them all, where they all came from. He knows that the smallest ones were actually the most dangerous, punching deeper into Jack while the others did more surface damage. Mac resists the urge to reach out and trace the scars; he doesn’t want to wake Jack yet.

The light catches something on the nightstand: the screen of Jack’s cellphone. It draws Mac’s eye, and he sees the little pile of Jack’s things that have taken over the nightstand on that side of the bed; Jack’s side of the bed. A few old worn out novels, his spare leather cuffs, and his keys for the cars that are currently in storage. Mac’s eye travels around the room. They’re not living together, not officially (despite the number of nights Jack stays over), and yet Jack’s things are everywhere. The room is littered with spare boots, t-shirts and jeans thrown over chairs, a few go bags still full of laundry they haven’t gotten to yet. Without looking Mac knows the ensuite is the same: little pots of fruity-smelling hair gel, an electric razor, and Jack’s fancy shower gel that he uses with a loofah.

Mac loves it. The way Jack is moving into his life like he never wants to leave. Mac never wants him to leave. And it hits him like a bolt of lightning. It’s not just that he likes having Jack around. He genuinely wants to spend the rest of his life with Jack, can’t imagine it without him.

Angus MacGyver is going to marry Jack Dalton someday. It’s not a promise, or a wish anymore. It’s just a fact that somehow Mac suddenly knows the same way he knows all the elements of the periodic table or the second law of thermodynamics.

Jack’s voice breaks in. “Hey baby. Wha’s goin’ on?” His voice is still heavy with sleep.

Mac shakes his head, feeling suddenly emotional.

Jack pushes up on his forearms, tensing the beautiful muscles of his shoulders, back and arms. “Hey, what’s up? You ok?” He reaches out a tender hand and tucks Mac’s hair away from his face. It’s been growing long again, but Mac hasn’t cut it because he knows Jack likes it that way.

“Nothing,” Mac says, “I was just… watching you sleep.” He grins at the end, knowing exactly what Jack’s response will be.

“Well that ain’t creepy as all hell or anything.”

“You like it,” Mac replies, still grinning.

Jack growls the way Mac loves, the way that sets him on fire, and rolls onto his back, almost off the edge of the mattress, pulling Mac on top of him. “Just cause I love it, don’t mean it ain’t creepy,” Jack says. He’s naked under Mac, but he lays perfectly still, waiting for Mac to take charge, to give permission.

Mac slides a knee between Jack’s legs and kisses him deep. Jack wraps his arms tightly around Mac and starts to move his hips against Mac’s thigh.

Mac pulls back, and Jack slows down, that look on his face like he’s sure he’s done something wrong. But he could never. “I love you Jack,” Mac says softly before he plants a soft kiss on Jack’s nose.

“God, but I love you Angus,” Jack replies, his face serious. “More than anything else in the world.”

Mac smiles so wide his face hurts before he relaxes back down into Jack’s arms.

And that’s it. It’s scientific fact. He’s going to marry Jack Dalton someday.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mac and Jack have a bit of a vacation back at the Dalton family ranch.

Mac leans forward against the fence, hands draped casually over it as though he’s been a ranch hand his whole life. In reality, he’s just relaxing for once in a very long time and watching Jack be an idiot.

Jack and his cousin George are running around the dusty corral dressed like real cowboys: jeans, boots, hats and all.

It’s been a while since either of them has had a vacation, and when Jack suggested a week at the ranch, Mac jumped at the chance. A week of Mama Dalton’s home cooking, and funny stories told around campfires and horse rides out to the stream, and nieces and nephews running around underfoot. It’s the family Mac never had, and he loves any minute (or week) he can get with them.

“Alright now, George, almost!” Jack calls out, arms held wide but still, as he blocks the horse’s way. “Almost got him cous! Come on you can-” Jack hisses in sympathy as George hits the ground, and the horse they’ve been trying to saddle wanders back over to the other side of the corral like he isn’t the asshole they all know he is.

“Son of a bitch!” George bellows as he takes Jack’s hand and gets hauled back to his feet. “This damn horse is impossible.”

Jack has taken it upon himself (and volunteered dear cousin George) to break Mama’s newest horse. And it seems to be quite a difficult problem. They’ve been at it for hours already, not to mention the two days leading up to this one.

They eye the horse warily, pick up the saddle, and walk back to where Mac is standing outside of the corral. 

George sets the saddle on the top of the fence and sighs. “This is one of the worst ideas you’ve ever had Jacky boy,” he grumbles as he sits down on one of the lower fence rails. He’s got a little of Jack in his face, but his hair is bright red, his tanned skinned covered in mottled freckles. “I’m gettin’ too old for this shit.”

“I’ll never be too old for this,” Jack says, “this is the fun stuff Georgie Porgie!” He ruffles his cousin’s hair and looks back over at the horse, his shoulders set and determined. That determination and drive is one of the things Mac will always love about Jack.

“Worst idea he’s ever had?” Mac asks, raising an eyebrow. “Worse than stealing that dead body from the morgue?”

George turns so quick he almost falls right off the fence. “He told you about that?” Then he turns his gaze on Jack. “Why in the hell have you been tellin’ people about that Jack? That’s a felony you know?”

“It ain’t,” Jack scoffs, still watching the horse.

“It is,” Mac and George agree together.

“Well, Mac ain’t gonna tell nobody anyway, are you sugar?” Jack asks sickly sweet as he turns back to the fence and leans in toward Mac. Jack always gets a little more Texas whenever they come back; picking up his mother’s turns of phrase, and some extra twang. It hangs around for a few weeks even once they’re back in LA. Mac loves it so much he sometimes wonders if they could consider retiring early and moving back. Jack could be a cowboy full time. Mac could have a barn full of experiments. He loves to dream about their future.

“I won’t tell a soul,” Mac says in his deep and gravelly imitation of Jack’s voice that hasn’t gotten much better over the years, and sounds like something out of a bad John Wayne movie.

“Git over here,” Jack jumps up on the first fence rail and pulls Mac into a headlock. They tussle for a minute with the fence between them.

George laughs at them, glad to have a breather and to see his cousin happy. 

Mac was worried the first few times they’d come home when they were together. Worried that backcountry Texas was no place for a couple like them. But the entire Dalton family had opened their arms to Mac, and to their relationship. Mac never feels like he needs to hide his affection around them; here he can love Jack openly. Even in LA that’s sometimes a challenge.

Mac turns the headlock around on Jack and has him calling “uncle” before long.

“Alright George, let’s get back to it,” Jack says.

“This fuckin’ bronc man,” George waves his hand vaguely at the chestnut stallion standing idly across the circular corral.

“George Cassidy Dalton!” Mama’s voice rings in the hot afternoon air like a bell. “You best watch that tongue’a yours. You ain’t too big to get your mouth washed out.”

George sighs and leans back against the fence before heaving himself to his feet, and taking off his hat respectfully. “Right sorry there Aunt Maggie, won’t happen again.”

“We both know it will,” Mama replies. “Lord knows how many I missed when I was outta earshot.”

Jack laughs and claps George on the back. “I love comin’ home. Makes me feel like a kid again.” He turns back toward the horse, and rubs his hands together like he’s about to do something really stupid. Mac’s seen it enough times to know.

“Jacky, you be careful,” Mama says as she comes to lean beside Mac at the fence.

“Best get some luck,” Jack says. He takes the hat from his head, and places it firmly on Mac’s before leaning in and getting a quick peck on the lips. He tastes like sweat and dirt and Mac loves it, so he grabs Jack at the back of the neck to pull him in for one more.

“Quit neckin’ and come help me with this dang horse already,” George says playfully with a laugh as he heaves the saddle off of the fence and moves back across the corral.

“You keep that hat darlin’,” Jack says quietly, just for Mac, but Mama most likely overhears. “Don’t want that pretty pale nose’a yours gettin’ burned out here.” Jack jumps down from the fence and runs over to George. “Alright Georgie, my turn.”

Mac adjusts the hat until it’s comfortable, something about Jack’s sweat from the hat band soaking into his hair is comforting. He definitely didn’t come prepared for a week on the ranch, just brought his regular clothes and he’s had to borrow a few things here or there to get along.

“They are makin’ right asses of themselves,” Mama says as she watches the two men approach the horse.

Mac barks a laugh and then turns to her. “Language Mama,” he jokes.

“I won’t tell George if you don’t,” she says with a grin.

Mac loves Mama. She’s so different from his own mother, who he remembers in the angelic way that children do when they lost their mother young; always seeing visions of them with the sun in their glowing blonde hair and smiles on their faces, lighting up their blue eyes.

But Mama is real. Where Mac’s mother is fragile and intangible, Mama is hard as stone and grounded perfectly in reality. She makes mistakes like regular people do, and she’s stubborn and pig headed just like Jack. Her hips are round, but she’s all muscle because she won’t ever let anything on the ranch be. And her wavy bright red hair is streaked through with uneven chunks of white. It’s the imperfections that make her perfect. The way her hair never stays up, little strands escaping to curl out in every direction; how she can’t cook eggs without burning them (so Jack always tells her that’s just how he likes them); and no matter how hard she tries she’s never been able to manage to be any good at horseshoes.

“It’s fine,” Mama continues, “I’ll have Isiah come over next week once Jacky’s gone. He’ll have that horse broke in a half hour. I’d bet the ranch on it.”

Mac smiles and watches Jack and George successfully get the saddle on the horse's back for about a minute before it bucks the thing off and trots away with its head in the air.

“I’m glad you came sugar,” she says, moving a little closer until her shoulder is brushing Mac’s bicep.

“Me too,” Mac replies, “we really needed this.” He sighs out and loves the way it feels when all of his muscles are relaxed.

“You been good for my boy,” she says, her voice suddenly a little emotional. “I’m glad he’s got you.” She doesn’t let Mac reply, but just keeps talking, just like Jack does. “It’s been a long time since my Jacky’s had a long relationship. Diane I think was the last big one. And that was so long ago I can barely remember her face. She was good. I liked her.”

Mac’s heart trips a little at those words. Diane was good for Jack; she brought Riley into his life. And Diane is still available, still out there for Jack if he wants her. It’s occurred to Mac more than a few times to let Jack go, and send him off in search of someone better, someone more conventional.

“I did like her. But she ain’t got nothin’ on you,” Mama says with a twist of mischief in her tone as she elbows Mac’s side. “I ain’t never seen him like he is with you. He’s happy, and comfortable. He liked Diane, but he was never comfortable with her. Never settled. Always waiting for something to go bad, you know? I don’t see that when he’s with you. He’s just happy.”

Mac feels a little choked up at that, his relaxation has left him open and raw and vulnerable.

“So you just stick around y’hear?” Mama says. “Cause you look good on each other.”

“Thanks Mama,” Mac says, ducking his head to wipe a few years away and pretending it’s the glare of the sun in his eyes. “I’ll be here as long as he’ll have me.”

“You don’t gotta worry about that none Mac baby,” she says with a wink. “He ain’t goin’ nowhere. He may seem like he’s a little wild and crazy and impetuous sometimes, my Jacky boy. But he’s like any other bronco.” She nods at the horse that’s just kicked the saddle off again.

Mac laughs. “How’s that?”

“Just needs the right cowboy to wrangle him.” She winks again, and then lets her head fall back as laughter tumbles out of a big, wide generous mouth that was made for smiling.

Mac laughs with her, and puts his arm around her shoulders.

Their laughter quiets, and she sneaks out from under his arm. “You make sure those boys come in for supper in a half hour, no more,” she warns.

“Cross my heart,” Mac says, making the gesture.

“‘At’s my boy,” she says with a soft smile that tugs at his heart before she turns to head back to the house.

George and Jack finally get the saddle on the horse, and Jack slowly and carefully pulls himself up to sit on its back. As soon as he’s seated the horse goes crazy, jumping and bolting around the corral until Jack slips from the saddle to the ground.

Mac knows he’s not seriously hurt, he’s seen Jack seriously hurt and knows exactly what that looks and sounds like. This is just Jack’s pride being a little tarnished, so Mac laughs along with George.

“Alright, alright!” Jack yells as the horse calms down and trots away again. “I am done in!”

Mac watches George help Jack up, and they manage to get the saddle back off the horse before they come back toward Mac. It’s all cowboy swagger and tired droopy shoulders. Mac wants to pull Jack into a hug, massage his sore muscles, and cuddle up with him in bed. He wants that forever; wants to keep Jack close, wants to promise it. He doesn’t doubt Jack’s commitment, doesn’t want to tie him down. It’s more that Mac wants to tell Jack, to scream it from the rooftops that he wants them to be together forever, that he doesn’t see a future that doesn’t hold Jack.

“You alright hoss?” Jack asks as he reaches the fence and climbs over. “Look a little lost.”

“Just taking some mental notes,” Mac smiles.

“On what?”

“How to wrangle a bronco,” he raises his eyebrows suggestively, putting an arm around Jack.

“Alright, alright,” George says loudly with a big wide grin, “get a room already.”

But they already have a room. A cozy little farmhouse bedroom, upstairs in the big Dalton house that had stood for a hundred years. And at the end of the night, once the fire has died down, and they’ve had a few beers with Mama, they trudge up the stairs with the weary steps of a long rewarding day.

Jack groans as he pulls off his t-shirt, and Mac hears a joint or two pop.

“Man, I thought bein’ a secret agent was a good workout,” Jack says as he tosses the rest of his clothing aside. “But the ranch gave me a whoopin’ today for sure.”

“Different muscles,” Mac laughs.

Jack pulls on his soft pyjama pants and flops down face first on the bed. “I am _done in_ hoss, no funny business tonight.”

Mac laughs again and finishes changing into his plain white tee and cotton pants before sitting down next to Jack on the bed. The springs groan under them. He slips his fingers into Jack’s hair, rubbing softly at his scalp.

“I’m too tired for funny business,” Mac says softly. He lets his fingers trail down Jack’s neck to his shoulders.

“Then what are you up to?” Jack grumbles into the mattress.

“Helping,” Mac says as he pushes down hard into the first tight muscle he finds.

Jack groans loud, and his body immediately starts to relax, loosening up.

Mac smiles and continues to feel out tight muscles, moving methodically down Jack’s back. Each time he finds a tense section and presses the day’s aches away, Jack makes obscene noises. At least they’re muffled by the mattress.

“Somebody’s going to think we’re up to something if you keep making noises like that,” Mac says as he climbs up to straddle Jack’s thighs so he can really get into the lower back section.

“Don’t care,” Jack grunts.

Mac grins and runs his hands back through his hair to try and get it back out of his face before he continues. He massages lower, getting closer to the waist of Jack’s pants. Mac needs more leverage for a particularly stubborn muscle, and plants one hand firmly on Jack’s amazing butt, leaning his weight on it.

“Ow! What’re you doin’ to me?” Jack bucks and rolls to the side, spilling Mac off onto the bed, and almost onto the floor.

“What the hell Jack?” Mac asks, righting himself.

“Jack Dalton!” Mama’s voice rings out from down the hall. “You best not be knockin’ boots in my house!”

“Cool it Mama!” Jack yells back. “We ain’t doin’ nothin’.” The southern drawl is getting thick, Mac could bathe in that accent. Dropping all the g’s and making everything so soft and gentle sounding. Even when yelling room to room.

Mac starts laughing first, rising up in his stomach at the thought that Jack has probably been having this very same conversation with Mama his whole life. From when he was a teenager bringing home his first girlfriend right up until now.

Jack giggles a little, sitting back against the headboard, until suddenly he’s grimacing again.

Mac’s laughter dies immediately. “What? What’s the matter?”

“Nothin’,” Jack tries to wave Mac’s concern away. “It’s nothin’.”

Mac just stares him down. “Roll over.”

Jack stares back, narrowing his eyes a little.

“Roll over.”

Jack sighs and rolls onto his stomach.

Mac slips his hands under the waistband of Jack’s pj’s and slips it down until he can see the big purple bruise that’s formed on Jack’s right ass cheek.

“That’s it,” Mac says softly, going for dramatic. “There’s no hope for it.”

Jack plays along. “None at all? Can’t save it doc?”

“Nope,” Mac sighs, “and it’s a shame too. It was a really really great ass.” A little bubble of laughter escapes and Mac pulls Jack’s pants back up and flops down next to him on the bed, the smile still stretching his face.

“I really love you Mac,” Jack says softly, eyes already drifting closed toward sleep.

“I know,” Mac says softly.

“You did not just Han Solo me,” Jack grumbles, eyes closed, still being dragged down to sleep. “I’m Han, you’re Leia.”

“Alright Han,” Mac says, heaving himself up. “Let’s get under the blankets and we’ll go to sleep ok?”

“Mmmm,” Jack replies.

Mac manages to move a sleepy Jack around enough to pry the blanket out from under him and get him covered up before crawling in next to him. He slides up against Jack’s side, arm over his naked back, and presses a soft kiss to Jack’s shoulder.

“I really love you too Jack,” Mac says quietly.

“I know,” Jack replies, opening one eye enough to get a quick look at Mac before sighing heavily and letting his body go limp.

Mac listens to the house around them. The way it creaks with the slightest breeze, but not in a frightening way, in the comforting way of an aged house that’s stood the test of time. It’s the kind of house he’d love to live in someday. The kind of house with wonderful old secrets hiding in every corner.

He holds Jack tight and drifts off to dream. To dream about a future with comfortable nights spent in each other’s arms in a creaky old farmhouse bed, covered by one of Grandma Ruth’s handmade quilts. To dream about a future that could be… will be if Mac has any say in it.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Riley and Billy get married and it brings up some feelings for Mac.

The moments happen here and there over the years. And Mac never sees them coming. They hit him like a freight train every time; a force of nature digging up his emotions and throwing them around.

So when he’s standing with the rest of the crowd, watching Riley and Billy share their first dance as husband and wife, he’s surprised, and yet not, when his eyes well up full of emotion and his stomach feels like it’s turning circles inside of him. The emotion comes from a never-ending spring of wanting to show Jack off to a crowd, claim him as Mac’s very own; to be with Jack forever. Jealousy of Riley follows his softer emotions, but he chokes it back.

The newlyweds sway to the music, Riley’s hair long and loose and wild, her cream and black lace dress hugging her just right, Billy looking dapper in a suit, holding her close. Even though they’re surrounded by a cheering crowd of friends and family, they’re only looking at each other. Billy leans over and puts his lips near her ear to say something private that makes Riley open her mouth wide in a laugh, and wrap her arms tighter around him.

Mac glances to Jack, who's wearing a big smile, but spilling tears down his cheeks. The tough guy persona always melts away whenever Riley’s around, and happy, and loved. Jack’s good at stepping back and feeling like he’s not needed; trying to let people go for their benefit, when they don’t want to be let go.

Mac slips his arms around Jack’s waist from behind. With his chin on Jack’s shoulder he’s got the perfect access to whisper to him. “She’s gonna be fine,” he attempts to soothe.

“A’course she will,” Jack tries for tough, but fails when his voice cracks. “She’s tough as nails that girl is.”

Mac lets his voice go quieter. “You’ll be fine too,” he says. “I’ve got you.”

Jack’s stomach convulses as he lets out a little sob; it vibrates into Mac’s hands and arms and he just pulls Jack in tighter.

“What are you tryin’ to do?” Jack asks through a forced out laugh. “Turn me into some blubberin’ idiot here?”

Mac turns his face into Jack’s neck and lays soft kisses to the edge of his jaw. The salt and pepper stubble scrapes perfectly at his lips.

The DJ’s voice booms over the crowd. “Riley and Billy would like to invite any other couples to come join them on the dance floor.”

Riley pointedly shoots a look at Jack and Mac.

The DJ’s voice comes on again. “Not just the married couples folks, but anybody who’s in love.”

Riley is less subtle this time when she whirls Billy over to where Mac and Jack are standing and pulls hard on both of their hands. “You heard the man!” She shouts over the music. “You two are so in love it’s disgusting. Now move your asses!”

Billy cocks an eyebrow. “She ain’t wrong.”

Jack laughs and turns in Mac’s grip to pull him onto the dance floor.

They move and sway, trading the lead back and forth throughout the song; dancing close and breathing hot against each other’s collars.

Mac pulls back and looks into Jack’s deep, endless eyes that are still wet with emotion. In that moment he imagines that it’s just them on the floor; that they’re dancing in front of everyone at their own wedding. And it’s so easy to let everyone else fade away. There’s no one else in the world but Jack. And it doesn’t seem like some far off dream that will never happen. It’s going to be a reality. They’re going to do this together. Mac can’t remember ever being so sure about something in his whole life.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mac and Jack go to Vegas, and ducking into a cheesy little neon-lit chapel is all Mac can think about.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is where the explicit rating comes in... and I am not in any way sorry that this chapter is pretty much 6K of porn.
> 
> So beware all ye who enter here. Porn ahoy!
> 
> Thanks for helping me with this chapter Sammy!!! aka BlackVultures.

Vegas glows all around them, the strip lit up and sparkling. The Lancelot Suite is waiting for them on the top floor of some fancy hotel, Mac’s not sure which one, with a big king sized bed and, knowing Jack, a bottle of chilled champagne.

But they’ve come to Vegas to go out on the town, not to stay in all weekend. If that’s what they’d wanted they would have just stayed home. So they’re wandering the north stretch of the strip, arm in arm. 

Mac feels so comfortable; anonymous in the crowds of people who don’t care that two men are holding hands and occasionally kissing each other lovingly; anything goes in Vegas. 

It’s easy for him to worry about judgement. His father trained him well to feel judged in every aspect in his life. But he never wants to feel that way with Jack. He wants everyone in the world to know that he loves Jack. And he doesn’t want to care what people think when they see them together. But he does. It’s programmed into his brain that this is something odd, and Mac’s never wanted to be odd. He’s always wanted to please and impress and be the best. And unfortunately being queer doesn’t always fit that mold.

Jack notices, Mac knows he does. Jack went well past caring what anyone thought of him years ago. He’d walk naked down the street hand in hand with Mac if that’s what Mac wanted. But he can see it in Jack’s eyes when someone on the street in LA shoots them a look, and Mac unlaces his fingers from Jack’s, or moves just a little away so they’re not touching anymore. He can see the tiny flare of hurt in Jack’s eyes before he buries it.

They’ve even talked about it. More than once. The last time was after they’d been out at some market with Bozer on some weekend. Walking through the hipster filled farmer’s market had made Mac feel safe and unjudged, surrounded by twirled moustaches and girls with big round ironic 80’s-style glasses, he felt so comfortable. He’d slipped his hand into the tight back pocket of Jack’s jeans, and even kissed him a few times. Jack had turned into him once, and they’d traded soft kisses easily back and forth until Mac had heard a scoff go off like a gunshot in the crowd. He’d pulled back so quickly that Jack’s mouth was still chasing after his wondering what had happened. Mac looked around and locked eyes with an older woman running a booth full of canned goods before he’d averted his eyes and stepped two full feet away from Jack.

After they’d gotten home that day, Mac had emotionally melted down, fingers tearing at his hair, eyes hot with frustration and sadness. He didn’t understand why he couldn’t get past this mental block. Didn’t understand why he couldn’t just love Jack and not care what anyone else thought.

It’s exactly the reason Mac wants to propose to Jack. To marry Jack. He wants to prove that he’s in it for the long haul, that even though his brain misfires sometimes, it still aims true. He wonders if wearing a ring will make him feel justified in his love. He wants to know so badly. And thinks it will prove to Jack that he means it every time he says he loves him, even if his actions falter occasionally.

Mac’s lost count of the number of chapels they’ve passed. Jack’s just gazing right past them as though they aren’t there. Which means it would be a terrible idea for Mac to suggest heading inside of one. But it’s all he wants to do in the world. Every time they walk by another set of neon wedding bells, Mac wants to grab Jack’s stupid sexy leather lapels and drag him inside. But if Jack’s not looking longingly toward the future, then Mac’s not going to force him.

So they wander down block after block, going into some bars, specifically if they have karaoke happening, and Mac longs. Craves. Needs.

None of the bars seem to meet Jack’s expectation. Sometimes they don’t even stay for a drink, he simply looks around, shakes his head and they walk out again. Mac doesn’t care. Just wants to be in Jack’s presence; holding Jack in public, kissing him, touching him. He could do it forever. So he lets Jack take the lead and just follows along, gazing adoringly at his perfect boyfriend without a care in the world except for the craving in his gut to drag Jack off and marry him.

Mac doesn’t drink much. Needs to keep his wits about him. He doesn’t want to make rash decisions drunk. And Vegas is the capital of rash decisions: marriage, tattoos…

“I think I’m about ready to turn in, if you get my drift,” Jack says with raised eyebrows when they walk out of a particularly terrible western-themed bar.

“You read my mind,” Mac says.

Mac barely pays attention as they catch a cab back to the hotel and then wander through the lobby. His eyes are only for Jack.

Luckily they have the elevator to themselves, and Mac presses Jack hard up against the wall, nibbling at his neck in that place that Jack loves; the little stretch of skin just below his jaw that makes him writhe.

“Somebody’s excited,” Jack groans, taking fistfuls of Mac’s hair and hanging on.

Mac answers with actions, slipping his fingers under Jack’s shirt while he licks and nips at Jack’s salty skin.

All night he’s been thinking of dragging Jack into chapels. Been thinking about it so much he’s having trouble remembering that it didn’t actually happen. And that thought, and feeling, hanging over him pushes him forward harder, makes him moan against Jack’s skin.

“The things you’re gonna do to me,” Mac says softly in Jack’s ear. “I want you so bad Jack.”

Jack lets his head fall back against the wall of the elevator, opening up more skin for Mac to assault with teeth and tongue.

“What exactly do you want me to do to you?” Jack asks.

Mac considers for a second, and feels suddenly sober despite the few drinks he’s had throughout the night. He leans back and looks into Jack’s eyes. “Slow,” he says. “I want you to draw it out for as long as you can. I want to be covered in sweat and begging. I want to hold you close and feel your whole body pressed up against mine when-”

A ding rings through the elevator and the door opens slowly.

“Yeah,” Jack says, pushing off from the wall and taking Mac’s hand. “I can do that.”

Once the door of their room closes behind them, Jack leads Mac to the bedroom. He lets the jacket fall from his shoulders and tosses it onto a chair.

Mac moves to take his own jacket off, but Jack grabs his hands and shakes his head.

“Jack… what-”

Jack doesn’t answer, but slips his hands under Mac’s jacket and pushes it slowly off. He tosses it to the chair with his own. Jack leans in and licks softly at Mac’s birthmark. “Slow,” he says in Mac’s ear before he pulls away again.

He undoes Mac’s shirt button by button instead of pulling it over his head like he normally would. Every button or two he leans in and kisses Mac softly, lovingly, sometimes letting go of the button he’s working on to take Mac’s cheek in hand.

It’s so tender and gentle and soft. It’s slow, just like Mac asked for. It feels different from any time before, fuelling Mac's fantasy that they did slip off and get married at some point that night.

Jack slips his own shirt over his head, his silver St. Michael medal catching on the collar before tumbling back to hang over his breastbone. Mac toys with the pendant, sliding it back and forth across Jack’s chest before he leans down to kiss it.

When Mac pulls back, Jack kisses him softly again, and Mac can still taste the metal on his own lips from the necklace.

“Mac,” Jack groans as though asking a question when he pulls back, eyes still closed.

Mac whispers, something about the moment feels sacred and he’s worried that talking too loud will break it to pieces. “What Jack?” He keeps Jack’s cheek in his palm, and runs his thumb over Jack’s wonderful lips.

“You are so beautiful,” Jack says, eyes still closed.

Mac smiles, and keeps whispering. “You can’t see me with your eyes closed.”

“Don’t need to,” Jack replies. “I could see it in the pitch black dark.” He opens his eyes suddenly, and they’re warm and dark and deep and beautiful.

Mac smiles. “You don’t know, do you?” He asks, thumb moving to trace those wonderful lines around Jack’s mouth.

“Know what?” Jack asks, a twinkle of mischief in his eye.

“That you’re beautiful too,” Mac says. He lets his palm slide from Jack’s cheek to his neck and down over his shoulder and chest.

The blush starts in Jack’s face and spreads down his neck to his chest, seeming to follow the path of Mac’s hand.

Mac kisses Jack again, hoping he can finally prove to the man that he’s worth everything. That’s why he should have done it; why he should have dragged Jack into a chapel and married him. So that Jack would finally know he’s wonderful and amazing and perfect and Mac wants to keep him forever. Mac tries to get it across in a kiss. A kiss that’s not fast and hard and passionate, but slow and loving and perfect because they fit together like they were made for each other.

Jack steps back again, smiling wide, still blushing. His fingers grab the hem of Mac’s undershirt and pull it up so slowly, revealing Mac’s skin inch by inch until finally he puts his arms up and Jack pulls it over his head.

At this rate, it’s going to take them all night just to get undressed. And Mac doesn’t care. It’s exactly what he asked for. Exactly what he wants.

Jack’s fingers start on Mac’s stomach and skim lightly across his skin, tracing a line around his middle to his back. Fingertips dance across his lower back and make him shudder away from the tickling touch and further into Jack’s arms. Mac’s hands slide up Jack’s biceps and to his shoulders, one hand slipping up into his hair and feeling the soft bristle of his buzz cut. Jack cut it fresh before they left, wanted to look his best for their weekend in Vegas.

Jack’s nose traces a teasing line up and down the side of Mac’s neck, his breath making goosebumps rise on Mac’s skin.

“How do you always smell so damn good?” Jack asks.

Mac scoffs, pinching at Jack’s shoulder in response.

“I’m serious Mac,” Jack says soft, getting closer to his ear to spill the words there like a secret. “Doesn’t matter where we are. Back from an op, lazy Sunday afternoon at home, after playing a game of horse and you’re all sweaty. Don’t matter you always smell…” He pauses, presses his face just behind Mac’s ear into his hair and breathes deep. “So damn good. I don’t know if it’s the soap you use or what, but there’s just something…”

Mac thinks about the way Jack always smells: leather and gasoline and gunfire. “I know exactly what you mean,” he says, pressing his face against Jack’s hair and taking a deep breath himself. This time there is the added tang of Jack’s sweat from walking around in the hot Nevada day.

Jack kisses soft behind Mac’s ear and then move his lips down to his neck, setting soft barely-kisses along the way until he reaches Mac’s shoulder. Then he returns to Mac’s mouth, cradling his head in both hands while he opens his mouth to Mac and kisses and licks at his lips.

Mac giggles a little, feeling the joy come up out of him without his control.

“What’s so funny hoss?” Jack asks, voice hoarse as he moves back to kissing Mac’s neck so he can answer. The kisses send little jolts of pleasure down Mac’s spine.

“I’m just so happy,” Mac says, honestly.

“Mmm,” Jack breathes against Mac’s skin. “Me too baby. Me too.” 

Jack leans back again and trails the backs of his fingertips down Mac’s body until he gets to the button of his Levi’s. He undoes the button with a soft pop that Mac can feel against his stomach. Jack draws the zipper down slowly, and the sound fills the room. He kneels in front of Mac, looking up at him like he’s the only person in the whole world, with these wide-open reverent eyes. He grips Mac’s pants at the hips and pulls down, letting them slide slowly down until they pile up around Mac’s feet, his boxers still in place.

Jack’s hands wrap tightly around the back of Mac’s thighs, holding him in place so he can’t step out of the pile of clothing just yet. Jack turns his head toward one of Mac’s kneecaps and kisses it softly, then moves and kisses the second one. The wet spots he leaves behind send a chill up Mac’s body.

Jack pulls on Mac’s calf, indicating he should move, and Mac steps out of his pants. Jack pulls his socks off, and tosses the clothing aside.

Mac wants. He wants so badly. He wants to throw Jack to the bed and take pleasure, wring it from Jack’s body fast and hard. And yet, this slow building pleasure is perfect too. He wants both things simultaneously, and feels something like panic spark in his chest at the division of his wants. But Jack has control, and takes the choice from him when he kneels tall and continues his slow, soft kisses across Mac’s stomach. Mac’s hands land in Jack’s hair, encouraging, petting, massaging.

Jack stands again, another soft kiss of their lips. And then Jack draws Mac’s hands down to his jeans.

Mac undoes the button, and copies Jack’s slowness with the zipper. Mac draws them down slowly and kneels while he helps Jack step out of them. He’s about to stand again when he breathes in and gets hit with a wave of _Jack_ ; the beautiful smell of his body, the musk of it. Mac leans forward without a thought, his body acting on instinct and want. He presses his face into Jack’s boxers, feeling the hardness against his mouth. He opens his lips and wraps them around the still clothed, impossibly hard skin under the cotton. And it tastes so good, even through that layer. He breathes through his nose and the smell intensifies. Mac’s body ramps up a notch, and he twitches, his own cock getting even harder. He feels a fever building under his skin, and his fingers itch to move and touch and grab and hold and stroke and pinch. Mac groans, Jack still in his mouth.

“Have mercy on me Mac,” Jack moans, tugging on Mac’s hair. “You said slow. You keep doin’ that ain’t nothin’ gonna happen slow.”

Mac’s head clears, and he lets Jack keep tugging until Mac’s on his feet again.

The next kiss has a little more passion behind it, but Mac can tell that Jack’s holding back and trying to keep it contained as their tongues slide together and Jack’s hands wander, still staying above the belt.

“When are you…” Mac pants between kisses. “Going to touch me Jack?”

“Well if this ain’t touchin’,” Jack says, running his hands from Mac’s stomach to his shoulders and around to his back and up into his hair. “I don’t know what it.”

“You know what I mean,” Mac growls, taking Jack’s lower lip between his teeth just the way Jack likes and sucking on it for a second before letting it go.

Jack gets serious for a second, that calm determination filling his eyes and expression. “Do you really want that Mac?” He asks. “Do you want me to speed things up? Or keep going like you asked me to? Do you trust me to do that for you?”

Mac feels the whine climb up his throat before he can swallow it. He’s still torn. He’s so turned on it almost hurts. He wants to come so badly, and he wants it now. But drawing it out has his body feeling things he’s never felt before. And he wants to feel everything with Jack.

“I trust you Jack,” Mac swallows heavily.

Jack smiles that amazing ear-to-ear smile that crinkles his face up in the best way. “Well alright then, let’s party.” He tickles the tip of his nose against Mac’s before dropping a quick kiss on his lips. He takes Mac’s hand and leads him toward the gigantic bed. “Alright, lay on back then,” he says, pointing at the bed.

Mac hooks his fingers in his boxers and moves to pull them down. Jack grabs his hand to stop him.

“Come on Jack, really?”

Jack shakes his head. “Little taste of your own medicine I think,” he says with a mischievous smile.

Mac rolls his eyes, but does as requested and crawls to the middle of the king sized bed to lay on his back, underwear still on.

Jack goes to the bedside table and grabs the lube before he drops his own boxers and crawls onto the bed. He sets the lube aside, and starts kissing his way down Mac’s body, starting at his throat.

Mac’s body rises to meet each kiss, arching up to Jack’s talented mouth. He plants a kiss on each nipple, but keeps his tongue back, continuing lower. Finally he reaches Mac’s boxers, but instead of removing them, he continues kissing over the fabric until he reaches the little wet spot that’s growing at the head of Mac’s cock.

Jack sticks his tongue out to taste, and Mac barely feels the contact through the fabric, but that tiny amount of stimulation has his body taut like a bow string, every muscle tense.

Jack closes his mouth over the wet spot and sucks at the fabric.

“Jack! Jack! Jesus!” Mac’s body writhes around seemingly without his permission a wave of sudden pleasure sparks through his whole body. After so long without any real stimulation it's too much. “Oh my god Jack! I can’t-”

The suction and pressure is gone, and Jack smiles up at him and winks.

“Ok, ok,” Mac huffs out breaths, trying to calm his body back down, “I totally deserved that.”

“You bet your ass you did,” Jack chuckles. He pulls Mac’s boxers off and tosses them aside before the crawls up alongside Mac and lays down, pressed into his side.

This is new for them. This is more like the stuff they would do at the end, when they were exhausted and sated and ready to fall asleep next to each other.

“Jack what-” Mac starts to ask and then Jack’s tongue is in his mouth, and their kisses are finally getting more intense. He takes Mac’s wrist and guides it down until Mac gets with the program and takes Jack in hand. Jack does the same to Mac and they lay like that, hands working each other, hips grinding forward slow.

Mac’s hand starts to move more quickly in his excitement, gripping tighter, drawing wetness from the head down to make it a slick slide.

Jack breaks the kiss and grabs Mac’s hand to stop it. “Slow,” Jack says, “slow Mac.” He looks up into Mac’s eyes, and Mac can see the restraint there, the fire that Jack is tamping down and keeping at bay. And Mac knows it will be worth it. Worth the long build up to get so excited and watch Jack let go of that control.

“Ok Jack,” Mac breathes hard with excitement, Jack’s hand still stroking him slowly. “Yeah, ok Jack.”

They lay like that for a while, hands slowly toying with each other, sometimes upping the pace a little only to slow back down in the most beautiful and torturous way.

“Stop Mac!” Jack calls out suddenly, grabbing Mac’s wrist almost too hard. “Stop, god stop or I’m gonna…” He grits his teeth like even saying the word “come” will cause it to happen.

“Too close?” Mac asks, letting his fingers loosen and fall away.

“So close, you got no idea,” Jack says. “Miracle of miracles that I didn’t…” And again, he can’t even say it.

Jack grabs the lube and slides down the bed a little, kissing at Mac’s stomach that’s starting to glow with sweat. He lets his legs fall open for Jack, something he used to get embarrassed about, his body on display. But Jack has spent so much time telling Mac he’s beautiful that he’s actually started to believe it.

Jack looks at Mac’s cock like he wants to suck it into his mouth, bites his lip, his eyes greedy with lust.

“Don’t Jack,” Mac warns, “if you do, the show’s over.”

Jack whines and presses his face against Mac’s hip as he easily pushes the first wet finger inside.

Mac’s still a little open from their morning sex, and the first two fingers are easy. When Jack gets to the third he slows down again, massaging slow but firm.

Mac wills himself to relax, lets the anticipation keep him high strung, but breathes deep so his body will relax and let Jack in.

And then Jack’s clever, perfect fingers press against his prostate. Once. Twice. A third time.

It’s not a sharp pleasure, instead it’s a warm pressure that adds to what’s already been built. Warmth seeps from his cock, a thin but steady flow. And he wonders if he’s coming, because he’s so close that he can’t tell if he is or not. He looks down to find a little pool on his belly. But it’s only precome. And it amazes him that he’s so lost in what Jack’s doing to him that he actually didn’t know if he was coming or not.

“You’re amazing,” Mac says.

Jack smiles. “I’ve got good motivation.” He slides his fingers deep, moving them, spreading them a little, making sure Mac is open. He slips his fingers out, and takes Mac in hand, lifting his cock away from his stomach before leaning over to lap a few tonguefuls of precome.

Mac groans and tosses his head back into the pillows. If he keeps watching he knows he’ll come.

“You ready Mac?”

Mac nods. “Mmhmm,” he groans out. “Yeah. Yeah. Please.”

Jack crawls up his body, pushing Mac’s legs further apart with his own muscled thighs. He leans over Mac and kisses him again, his tongue salty with the intimate taste of Mac’s body. While their tongues are busy with each other, Jack lines up and pushes in slowly.

The burn and stretch of Jack pressing inside pulls Mac back from the edge a little, and he breathes deep into his chest in the way he knows will help relax his muscles and ease the way. It’s only uncomfortable for the first slide all the way in. Jack stops when he bottoms out, hips pressed against Mac’s skin, waiting, letting Mac adjust like he always does. He collapses forward, letting his forearms take some of his weight, but letting the rest of it press Mac down into the mattress.

Their skin is slick everywhere they press together; both of them sweating with the excitement and exertion. Jack kisses him tenderly, brushing the hair back from his forehead.

“You know the drill Mac,” Jack says. “I ain’t movin’ until you say so.”

This started early with them. One time Jack got a little eager and started thrusting before Mac was relaxed. It had caused some pain and ruined their evening that night. After that the “all clear” tradition had been introduced.

“Go,” Mac pleads.

Jack shakes his head and kisses Mac again, deep and passionate, their hips twitching a little, but no real movement from Jack. “Not good enough Mac,” Jacks says when he ends the kiss. “You know the rules.”

“All clear Sarge,” Mac says with a grin before he kisses what he can reach: Jack’s chin.

“Oh thank god,” Jack says as he starts to move.

At first it’s slow thrusts in and out, just to make sure everything’s alright. He watches Mac’s face closely, but Mac knows the moment Jack finally gives in. His hands slide under Mac’s back to grip at his shoulders, and he buries his face in the side of Mac’s neck, muttering all sorts of beautiful nonsense about miracles and beauty mixed in with obscenities.

Time gets lost. Jack’s body over his is the only thing that means anything; Jack moving inside of him. And Jack knows him too well, knows exactly when he’s about to orgasm. And each time Mac gets close, desperate for it to finally happen, Jack slows himself down, lets his hips have a break while he showers Mac in kisses and sweet soft affection that shouldn’t fit so well with intense passion; but Jack makes it fit. Because Jack is wonderful and beautiful and amazing and he loves Mac deeply. It’s in these moments that Mac feels the love blended up with their passion. And he’s never going to let it get away.

Mac’s covered in a layer of sweat, the slip slide of his body against Jack’s is effortless. Sometimes when he’s trying to hold onto Jack he can’t get a grip for the wetness of it.

“Yes Jack! God yes. Right - oh right there!”

Jack’s stamina is relentless, every muscle in his body tensed, his hips moving precise and hard and fast, and just like always they fit so perfectly the pleasure is almost painful it’s so perfect.

Jack’s words are punctuated with grunts of effort. “Yeah. Angus! Oh god! Yeah. Yeah. Like that? Good?”

“So good Jack! Almost-”

Mac plants the balls of his feet between Jack’s calves and presses his hips up away from the bed, chasing friction at the right place inside him. Jack adjusts to the angle and suddenly the world is a torrent of pleasure. Mac’s fingers wrap tightly around Jack’s biceps, fingernails digging in.

“Just like that! Harder Jack! So close!”

“Angus! You’re gonna - kill me - I swear.”

Jack’s head falls forward, a few drops of sweat hitting Mac’s neck.

Jack finds energy somewhere inside, and surges forward harder and faster than before.

Mac comes instantly, his body seizing up as words trickle from him through the pleasure. Soft words that his tongue has no control over, but caresses just before they pass his lips.

“Jack. Oh god. I’m coming Jack. Keep going. Feels good. So good. Perfect. You’re perfect. Jack.”

Mac’s hands are seized with the rest of him, holding tightly to the thing he never wants to let go. And he lets himself imagine that this is his first orgasm as a husband. Lets himself imagine that it’s the special night he had wanted it to be. And the orgasm surges in him one last time, a little more come dribbling out of him as Jack continues to use his body, chasing his own orgasm. 

The words keep coming out of Mac. He can’t stop them. Doesn’t want to.

“Love you Jack. God I love you so much. Keep going. Please. It’s so good.”

“Not too - nngh - too much?”

And there’s Jack. Always looking out for the person he loves without caring what happens to himself. Mac knows from experience that Jack will stop right now if Mac asks, and he won’t come until later, when he feels like Mac is safe and taken care of.

“Never. Never enough. I love you. I love you. Please. More Jack. More.”

“I love you too Angus. God so much you’ll never know.”

Jack presses forward hard and deep for another few thrusts before his he grunts through a series of groans that start soft and end pornographic. But Jack keeps moving through the whole thing, letting Mac’s body wring every bit of come out of him. At last he shoves deep one more time and then stills, holding himself over Mac so he doesn’t hinder breathing. He lets his head fall forward, and turns his face into Mac’s neck. He huffs a wet breath, barely distinguishable from the layer of sweat over both of them.

“Angus,” the word is a sigh full of longing. “I do you know?”

“What?”

“Love you so much.” Jack sounds like he’s in pain. “I’m no good with words man. I can’t say it the way it feels. But it’s like I’m always burnin’ up from the inside for how much I need you. Can’t never seem to get close enough.” He licks a line from Mac’s neck up to his jaw before kissing his cheek.

Mac’s hands finally release, and they feel stiff from clamping onto Jack for so long. He trails his fingers up Jack’s shoulders and into his hair which is soaked through. He manages to get a grip on the short mohawk and pulls Jack’s head up so their eyes can meet. Jack’s eyes are full of tears, emotions raging in him.

“I know exactly what you mean,” Mac says, feeling his own eyes well up. “Every time.” He gasps in a breath, still recovering from his orgasm. “Every time is never the same. And it always feels so…” He can’t find the words either.

Jack just nods, and looks down at Mac’s lips. 

And then they’re kissing again. Kissing, like it’s the start of their night and not the end. Like they’ve just burst through the hotel room door and are about to strip each other naked. Except they’re already naked and literally soaking the sheets in sweat and lube and come. But Mac’s arms loop around Jack’s shoulders and pull him in so tight, like he never wants to let go and will fight anyone who tries to pull them apart. Jack’s tongue slips into his mouth with passion and Mac’s lips, sore from kissing and sucking and licking, are on fire against Jack’s mouth. He tastes so good, like sweat and the beer from the bar, and something deep down that’s just Jack. Mac chases that last taste, hoping to find the source.

Jack is still inside him, soft, but still there. Mac groans at the feeling. He won’t be able to get hard again for probably an hour or more, and yet he wraps his legs around Jack like he could go again immediately. They roll to the side, so Jack can stop using his arms to prop himself up, and instead run them all over Mac’s body, sliding easily in the sweat.

They groan into each other’s mouths, and occasionally break off kissing to moan and mutter dirty and sweet things to each other. The things they want to do with their bodies, the way their hearts feel, what it means to be alone together.

Jack finally slips free. Come has been leaking out as he softens, and now the last small rush of fluid comes with.

“Should’ve got a room with two beds,” Jack says between kisses.

“Why?” Mac asks.

Jack has to break off kissing to laugh, his arms wrapped around Mac and still trying to pull him closer. He laughs into Mac’s ear.

“What?” Mac asks, the laughter catching as his body flutters against Jack.

“Well, we destroyed this bed,” Jack says, finally laying back a little and taking a breather, but still holding Mac tight. “I am not lookin’ forward to sleepin’ in this all night. And the other option is to ask for ‘emergency housekeeping’ and sit here with a look of shame on our faces while they make up our bed for us.”

“Won’t they just send up fresh sheets?” Mac asks.

Jack shakes his head. “Nope, they’ll insist on makin’ it for you.”

Mac wrinkles his nose. “What if we just…” he raises an eyebrow. “Never go to sleep?”

Jack growls. “I could get behind that idea,” he says, “you have anything particular in mind?”

“Shower, and then room service to refuel and then… go from there?” Mac's reminded of their first night together, in that hotel room after the Ghost.

“Man after my own heart,” Jack jokes. But it cuts Mac to the core; makes him remember just what he’s been thinking about all night. What every neon sign they passed was trying to tell him: Get Married Now - Quick Chapel, No Wait - Marriage In Minutes.

“You ok?” Jack asks, cradling Mac’s face in his hands. “Angus, you alright? You with me?”

Mac very unsexily sniffles, sucking some snot back up his nose, and nods. “It was…” He coughs to clear the emotion from his throat. “Really intense tonight, you know?”

“Yeah, I get you,” Jack says. “You sure you’re up for more? We can just hang out on the couch and watch TV or somethin’. Rent something good.”

Mac shakes his head. “I’ll be alright,” he says. He leans forward and kisses Jack dirty, tongue in and out of his mouth like a porno kiss. “I already want you so bad again. God I can’t get enough,” he says against Jack’s lips before he kisses him again.

Jack’s hands get active again, sliding from Mac’s face down his body and around back to take handfuls of his ass, fingers slipping in the lube, sweat, and come. Jack breaks off again. “Shower, and food first,” Jack says. “And then we can go again on one condition?”

“Name it,” Mac says desperately, kissing at Jack’s jawline, never wanting to let him go. “Anything.”

Jack groans at the attention. “My turn to bottom this time,” he says, “I want you so bad.” He gasps when Mac nips too hard at the request, excitement getting the best of him. “Want you inside me.”

Mac makes a needy noise and suddenly feels like he wants to be able to crawl inside Jack’s skin, he pulls their bodies tight together and licks at the spot just under Jack’s ear that drives him crazy.

“Angus! Jesus!” Jack’s hands tighten on Mac’s ass, and he breathes hard, his chest pushing Mac away on every heavy inhale. “God damnit you know just - where to-” He moans loud, gets a handful of Mac’s hair and pulls him back.

Mac worries he’s gone too far and meets Jack’s eye. But Jack is smiling, his eyes sparkling with excitement. “That’s not the plan hoss,” he says, “shower. Food. No improvising until after food, you got me?”

Mac smiles and nods. There’s this too. It’s not just sex and desire and need and want. There’s softness and comfort and this wonderful knowing of each other. It’s this that makes Mac want to marry Jack. It’s this that lets Mac know they are forever. Because nothing has ever felt this way. He’s had relationships and sex with other people. And never has he felt complete with someone else, like there was no hiding or compromise. He doesn’t just want to marry Jack, he knows it’s right, deep inside. Because when the lust tapers off, what they’re left with is just as beautiful and just as intense, and it runs just as deep.

Mac sighs and drops a soft peck on Jack’s lips, a peace offering that says: ok, I’m done for now.

“I’ll order us somethin’ tasty,” Jack says, “you go get the shower running.”

“No onions,” Mac says as he reluctantly lets go and rolls off the bed.

“Alright, alright,” Jack says.

Mac starts the shower and pokes his head back out into the bedroom, Jack already on the phone to room service. “No garlic either!”


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack's trying to work up to a certain question and reflects on his relationship with Mac.

Jack’s been feeling weird since their weekend in Vegas a few weeks before. Like something’s going unsaid between him and Mac, and he’s never felt like that before. Sure, Jack's been keeping a big secret, but it’s a happy one so he hasn’t been worried about it messing them up.

But something’s off with Mac. He’s been listless and a bit distant. Jack had watched him in Vegas, watched his eyes wander off like he was dreaming during their whole trip. He’d dragged Mac to bar after bar hoping that something would interest him. After all, there’s something for everyone in Vegas. But they’d have a drink, and Mac would seem like he wanted to be elsewhere, so Jack would drag him back out to the street and they’d wander to another bar.

Jack had spent a lot of their trip thinking about pulling Mac into one of the many chapels along the strip and getting down on one knee right there. But Mac had just seemed so, lost in his head. It didn’t seem like the right time no matter what Jack wanted. It had to be right for both of them.

Jack’s sitting in the Corvette outside Mac’s place. It’s a bright summer day, and he always pulls the Vette out during the summer when it’s nice. The sparkling blue paint looks best in the sunshine, it doesn’t suit gloomy days and rain. So he’s sitting, on a beautiful summer day, staring out of the windshield, and toying with the little velvet box in his hands.

Jack knew from the beginning that he wanted to keep Mac forever, but he felt like that claim wasn’t his to make. Jack was older (still is), and Mac still had so much of his life ahead of him. But Jack can’t shake the feeling of forever that hangs on him when they’re together.

From the first moment they’d met, Mac had gotten under his skin; messing with his stuff in the sandbox. And it only got worse from there. Or better, depending on the angle you looked at it.

The night they’d finally gotten together, after years of friendship and building sexual tension, Jack knew. He felt it in his bones the minute Mac had admitted that he was in love with Jack. Like fireworks going off in his brain and lighting up the future, Jack could only see Mac.

And the moments had only built one on top of the other over the years. 

Waking up together in Mac’s bed, and Jack wishing it was his place too. Wishing he could always stay there and never have to go home and water his own plants and pay his own rent. His things are all over the house already anyway. But Mac’s never asked him to move in. So Jack makes sure to keep that space between them, let Mac have his own home.

Bringing Mac back and letting him meet the family, not just as his friend anymore, but his boyfriend… That one had been hard for Jack. People don’t meet the family unless he’s serious about them. And he knew he was serious about Mac when he booked the tickets, but he didn’t know where Mac’s head was at. It was easier than Jack had expected, since the whole family knew Mac already and cherished him as a Dalton, despite the fact that he wasn’t. Wandering around the ranch, riding together, being affectionate in front of everyone… it had felt so natural Jack had wanted to cry every night with how much he wanted it to be that way always. He’d crawl into that creaky old bed with Mac and lay down and listen to the quiet night of a rural place, and Mac would put his arms around Jack and breathe against his skin. And it was beautiful and perfect. Jack thought it seemed like it would be a nice place, even, to spend their days when they were too old for getting shot at.

Jack looks at the ring box in his hand and opens it again. He’s going to break the damn hinge from the number of times he’s opened it to look. The ring glitters up at him, plain and worn; his dad’s wedding band. Scratches from decades of being worn out to work the ranch mark the surface, but it still shines bright. Under so much stress and put through so much shit, and the gold still shines through. It reminds him so much of Mac he feels his heart tighten up in his chest.

What if Mac says no?

This is the question that’s been burning through Jack since his mother sent the ring to him by courier, with no note, after their last visit.

What if Mac says no?

Does that mean they’re just done? Is it a foregone conclusion that if Jack wants this and Mac doesn’t they can’t be together anymore?

Jack’s never felt so unsure of anything in his life. He closes the box with a loud clack and lets his head fall against the headrest.

He’d been so sure after Riley’s wedding. The way him and Mac had danced together. Mac watching Riley at the altar with a longing look in his eye. Something in Jack had clicked, something deep down told him this was right. They were so good together, and the way Mac watched Riley and Billy made him think he wanted the same thing. And then they’d danced together on the floor, and Mac had eyes only for Jack and he’d been so tender when Jack had become a blubbering mess.

But then Vegas.

Mac had been so distant in Vegas. Jack had been ready, the ring in his pocket the whole trip, just waiting for the right moment. Waiting for some kind of sign that it was right, that Mac wanted him to. And each time they’d passed one of those godawful looking neon chapels, it just hadn’t felt right. And then the mind blowing night that followed. Something had been different between them in the bedroom that night. Not bad, but something different, something more intense. Jack hadn't wanted to ruin it, to break that beautiful night by popping the question and getting a "no."

And then weeks had passed and Jack’s brain had been working overtime to convince him that something weird was up with Mac. Some days Jack would take the ring with him, fumble at it in his pocket. But then Mac would say one thing and Jack would spend hours overanalyzing the word combination he’d used, wondering if it was a signal he’d missed, so lost in bliss the way he had been.

 _What an idiot_ , Jack thinks. _I’ve been such an idiot._

They’ve been together for years. There’s no reason to think that Mac’s pulling away, except Jack’s own insecurity.

He’d turned on his phone that morning, and the bright screen had assaulted him with the date. _The date_. And he knew in that moment that it was right. He’d grabbed the ring from his sock drawer, opened the box and stared at Pop’s ring. And it felt right.

But now he’s sitting in his car in Mac’s driveway second guessing himself again.

He dials Mama up quick, hoping she’s not out.

“What’s up sugar?” She answers after two rings.

“I don’t think I can do this Mama,” he says softly, hating the sound of defeat in his voice.

“Yes you can Jacky boy,” she replies, “it’s gonna be the hardest thing you’ve ever done. But you can do it. And you should.” Of course she knows exactly what he’s talking about, despite the fact they haven’t said a word to each other about it since she sent the ring.

“I should, should I?” He asks, trying to laugh.

“I got my own selfish reasons,” she laughs in return. “I love him too you know? But honey, it’s been eatin’ at you. I could see it the last time ya’ll came to visit. It’s gonna keep gettin’ worse unless you just get it over with.”

Jack makes a sound, half between “Mmhmm” and a whimper.

“I can’t promise he’ll say yes Jacky,” she says, “but if I was a bettin’ woman, I’d put the ranch on it.”

Jack hits his head against the headrest.

“That man loves you honey,” Mama says. “Loves you for all he’s worth. Now do it before you lose your nerve.”

“Thanks Mama. Love you.”

Mama doesn’t even reply, just hangs up.

Jack jumps out of the car and heads up to Mac’s front door. He itches to put the box back into his pocket, to hide it in case he changes his mind. But he doesn’t let himself.

He opens the door with his key, the key that’s so worn it’s starting to stick in the lock, and lets himself in.

“Hey Mac, you home?”

Of course he’s home, his Jeep is in the driveway.

“Living room!” Mac calls out. “There’s a NASA launch today.”

Jack smiles and strides into the living room.

Mac’s kicked back on the couch, dressed like it’s any other day: flannel shirt, Levi’s.

“What’s up?” Mac asks, turning his attention from the countdown happening on TV.

Jack glances at the screen. “Dude, that countdown timer says two hours, why are you watching _now_?”

“It’s actually really cool,” Mac sits forward, hands on his knees while he gets excited and explains. “They go over the building of the rocket and talk about all the stuff that’s on board. There’s interviews with some of the engineers and researchers. It’s really interesting.” How in the hell did Jack get so lucky to end up with this beautiful genius?

“Oh man, that sounds boring,” Jack jokes.

“Well, now that you’re here it’ll get a little more exciting, right?” Mac says with a raised eyebrow and a laugh.

“Actually yeah, I think,” Jack swallows hard, fumbling the soft little box back and forth between this hands. He's shaking and feels suddenly like he needs to run to the bathroom and vomit.

“What's that?” Mac asks, pointing to Jack's hands and running his fingers through his hair. It's such a casual gesture, and it occurs to Jack that Mac doesn't know that something life changing is about to happen to him. To both of them.

“Well, that’s what I wanted to talk to you about,” Jack says. He takes a deep breath and decides if he’s gonna do this he’s gonna go all the way. So he walks over to the couch and lowers himself onto one knee feeling like a total idiot. They’ve never been traditional in any sense of their relationship. Why start now? But he does it anyway. It's what Pop would have wanted.

Mac’s eyes go wide, his mouth dropping open a little as he sits up on the couch and looks down at Jack’s hands again. He looks a bit like a panicked rabbit. Jack feels like anything but a wolf.

Jack clears his throat. “You know what today is?”

Mac shakes his head.

“Well, it was on this godawful day in 2011 that this idiot of an EOD tech showed up and started messin’ with my stuff,” Jack says. “I really didn’t think so that day, but he was the best thing to ever come into my life. And I just-” Jack’s words falter, his throat too dry. So he just opens the box, and holds it out for Mac to see. “I think you know the rest.”

“Nope,” Mac says, but he’s smiling.

“Nope what?” Jack asks, still half terrified, and his hands shake harder, almost dropping the ring box. “Nope, like you’re saying no? Are you saying no right now? I knew this was a bad idea and I-”

Mac grabs Jack’s hands and they cradle the little box together. He looks into Jack’s eyes. “You have to ask me Jack.” He laughs. “I’m not going to answer until you actually ask me.”

Jack feels braver. It’s going to be yes. He’s going to say yes.

“Angus MacGyver, will you just marry me already?”

Mac nods, and it’s soft and understated and perfect.

“Nope,” Jack laughs. “You don’t get it until you answer me. You have to actually answer me.” He mocks.

“Of course Jack. 1000 times of course,” Mac says.

Jack surges up and tackles him against the back of the couch, crawling into Mac's lap, still holding the ring box firmly. He kisses Mac and it’s soft and perfect and gentle.

“Hey,” Mac says against his lips. “I’m pretty sure I was promised a ring.”

Jack sits back, pulls the ring slowly out in shaking hands and slips it onto Mac’s finger. A perfect fit, of course, because it’s meant to be.

“You’re happy about this?” Jack asks, still feeling that little tinge of self consciousness down in his gut. “Bein’ stuck with me forever?”

“I was gonna be stuck with you forever, married or not,” Mac says, putting an arm around Jack’s waist and pulling him close. “But I’m _very_ happy about this. Do you know how many times I almost dragged you into chapels when we were in Vegas?”

Jack sits up straight. "Are you kiddin’ me right now?”

Mac shakes his head. “I even considered the alien wedding chapel we passed by.”

“Ok, first, that would have been awesome,” Jack says seriously, “and second: I was doin’ the same thing!”

Mac pulls him back down, close for kissing.

“Let’s go back to Vegas,” Mac says between kisses. “Next weekend. We’ll go again and do it right.”

“On two conditions,” Jack says softly, nuzzling at Mac’s soft cheek.

“Name them,” Mac says.

“One: I finally get to move in with you,” Jack says.

Mac laughs. “Well I’m sure not moving into your place. My place is way better. What’s the second thing?”

“We’re definitely getting married at the alien wedding chapel.”

Mac devolves into laughter, and two hours later when the rocket finally launches, they miss it entirely.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is a bit weird... it tense jumps (on purpose) all over the place... and I hope I didn't mess it up anywhere. Thanks lavendersblues for checking it over for me quick.


End file.
